Book Two: Love is Our Armour
by kissmeintherain26
Summary: "(Love) always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." Fred Weasley and Blayne Tonks are slowly realizing that life after Hogwarts comes with its own set of issues and decisions. Follow the two as they navigate the darkening Wizard World and their evolving relationship. Book Two of the "Love Will Lead Us Home" series, read Book One: Love is Our Weapon first!
1. Lay Your Head Down

_HEY ALL! WELCOME BACK! Welcome to all you who've been following Blayne and Fred, and welcome to all of you newbies who are just joining us. It means a lot to me, guys. Thank you so much for all your continued support. _

_As always, typical disclaimers apply. Also, please don't hesitate to comment with requests or (gentle) critiques (I do have to worry about my poor ego, you know). _

_Ie: so I know Tonks is a little out of character for this part of the book (she's supposed to be really upset and mousy) but I just can't see Tonks being like that for so long and all the time. I think she had her moments, yes, but I think she was, of course, trying to put on a brave face at other times. Like these times._

_Also what do you guys think about Verity? I know J.K. Rowling said that George ends up with Angelina, and I wanted to know if you appreciate the creative liberty or if I should evolve the story line!_

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**Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.****It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.****It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.** 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

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I tilted my head up, the corner of my lip turned upwards as the sunlight bathed the street in golden heat. My body was warm where the rays touched my bare skin. It was a beautiful day. Fall was coming, and I was determined to make the most of the few summer days that we had left.

I was in Muggle London for the afternoon, picking up bits and pieces for the apartment. We needed a new set of dishes, as Fred and I had knocked down the drying rack one morning during an accidental but vigorous snogging session. We were out of bread, and milk… and chocolate. Because I was the only one that did shopping in the house. Of course. I had to buy some new panties, too, because mine seemed to be running away. I had serious suspicions about what Fred held in his nightstand.

But, you know, aside from a lot of shagging, Fred and I were actually trying to take it slow. We didn't want to mess it up like we did last time, and we thought that maybe if we avoided the huge commitment, crazy-romantic, 'our love will last a lifetime' thing than we might be better off. We had both grown a lot in our time apart, and we both now realized that we had had false and childishly naïve thoughts about how love and relationships worked. It was time to be more practical. So, yes. Slow.

That's not to say that I didn't sometimes wish he could do the gentlemanly thing and get the groceries every once in a while.

It didn't _really_ surprise me when I came home and found Tonks in my kitchen, pacing back and forth and muttering to herself angrily. Her hands tore at her short locks, tugging them and ignoring their ever-changing colors. So, emotionally distraught sister who let herself into my house. Not a problem at all.

Trying not to pant from the trudge up the steep staircase, I dropped the bags by the door and shut it behind me. Tonks nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to me, her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Wotcher, Blayne! There you are. Where have you been?"

Right. So this was _my_ fault. Of course.

"Had to run some errands. What's wrong Nymph?" I motioned for her to sit at the table and walked to the kettle, flicking some water into the pot with a swish of my wrist and turning the boiler on. "Tea?" She made a noncommittal noise in my direction. I shouldn't have even asked her. I was making her a cuppa anyways.

Tea, it solved everything.

"What's wrong? _What's wrong_?" I looked over my shoulder to see her slump down in the chair, her eyes frantic. "_Nothing's_ wrong, that's the problem!"

I had to actively stop myself from sighing. Only Tonks. Setting the mugs down on the table, I turned to my sister with a raised eyebrow. "Nothing's wrong? Care to explain yourself?"

"I'm going on a date tonight."

As if that solved everything. That's it. That was her explanation. I resisted the urge to rub my forehead in exasperation. I also resisted the urge to think about how that was a habit I had gotten from Fred. Because, you know, trying to take it slow and everything. Right.

The water started to boil, making little angry hissing sounds, so I grabbed the mugs and put tea bags in. "And that's a bad thing, why?" I kept my back to her, half-listening to her response and half-focused on dumping in just the right amount of sugar for her tea. I skipped the milk for hers and slipped more than enough into mine, smiling as I did so.

"_Want a little tea with your milk and sugar, ey babe?"_

I tuned back into Tonks' monologue at just the right moment, missing the part about clothes and something random about interracial children. "- and Remus just walked up to me, like I hadn't been trying to get him to ask me out for _ages_, and he's all, 'Tonks, might you want to go to dinner with me tonight?' Just like that. All perfect teeth and charmingly disarming smile, like he was trying to _convince_ me! Like I haven't been hanging all over him for months and practically begging him to just _take me-_"

And okay, her impression might be a little lacking, but I think I could pick up the gist of what she was saying, and my hand stopped abruptly from where it had been mindlessly stirring the spoon in ym tea. "Woah there girl! I don't really want to think about you shagging some bloke! Wait, did you say Remus? As in Remus Lupin? As in," I had to set my cuppa down in order to better make flailing hand-motions, "my-former-DADA-teacher-Remus Lupin? As in slightly-furry-problem, twice-your-age, Sirius's-best-mate Remus Lupin?"

"Yes, the very same romantically challenged arsehead."

Should she look that proud/frustrated when confirming that her date for the night could be, out of context, classified as a masochistic pedophile?

Should I be worried that I nearly squealed with joy?

"Oh brilliant Nymph! I'm so happy for you two! You make a lovely couple." I grabbed my mug, one of the U-No-Poo ones from downstairs, and sat down next to her to kiss her on the cheek. "So what's the problem then?"

"Well, blimey, haven't you been listening, you numpty? First off, what the bloody hell am I supposed to wear? What does 'dinner' even mean? Fancy restaurant, or dinner at his house, or is that some sort of old-time euphemism for shagging, like 'playing Parcheesi'? By the way, what even is Parcheesi? Is that a Muggle thing? But then what it it's awkward, and we don't have anything to talk about? What if he talks about the war or his old friends, or what if he suddenly realizes that he's too old for me and just freaks the fuck out?" She was barely even stopping to breath. When she took a sip of her tea, she just barreled right through, drinking while talking. "What if he realizes just how bonkers I am and that I'm too messed up after… after June, and what if he just dumps me in the middle of it and never wants to talk to me again? That would be awfully awkward for Order meetings. And what do I even say to him when he figures out that I'm a nutter? 'I'm sorry, I should have made it more obvious?' How much more obviously mazed can I be? What if-"

"What if's will get you nowhere. Calm down and drink your tea." I took a sip of mine as if to illustrate the point. "Now, he wouldn't have asked you out if he didn't like you, nutter and all. So you can just stop that train of thought right now. And the age difference isn't that big of a deal; it's only a few years, and you're blowing it way out of proportion. You know that June had nothing to do with you, and it's natural to be upset about it. He understands that. He's seen enough death to understand that. And no, darling, 'dinner' means just that. Dinner."

I grabbed her cup and mine and went to go wash them out. When I turned around, Tonks had her head in her hands. "But that still doesn't answer the most important question!" she moaned into her palms, her voice muffled.

"And what is that?" I asked carefully, calmly. Not at all sarcastically. I secretly clapped myself on the back.

She let out a low groan of agony. "_What am I going to wear_?"

I couldn't help it. I burst into laughter, nearly tripping over myself and a chair while clutching at my stomach. It didn't take long for her to start laughing too. I mean really, it's true what they say. Laughter is infectious.

When we had calmed down enough, I told her to wear her dark blue jeans and that cute black top that she sometimes wore to special events, like Harry's birthday party. She got really enthusiastic and mentioned something about a jean jacket, and with a kiss on my forehead and an exclamation about how wicked I was, she was out the door. I shouted 'good luck' through the wood.

I wasn't surprised when she bounded through my door two days later and shouted at the top of her lungs about the wonders of werewolf stamina.

Not surprised does not mean I wanted to hear about my former teacher and one of my favorite old men shagging my sister. No. So I shoved my fingers in my ear, told her I was happy for the two of them, and shoved her out of the flat two minutes later.

A week later it was time for Harry and the others to go back to Hogwarts. I wrote and formalized my letter to Dumbledore saying that I would not be returning to school that year, and sent it without regret. Dumbledore knew I wouldn't go back, because I had told him almost immediately after I had made the decision, but it was still a procedure I had to go through in order to legally have left school.

I wasn't concerned about it. I knew I was making the best choice for myself. My parents just didn't agree. And you know… Fred.

Fred and I actually got into a minor disagreement/borderline argument about it one night over takeout from a Muggle pizza restaurant. Fred didn't want me to leave, but he also wanted me to 'stay true to myself' and 'get the education I always dreamed of' and 'make something of myself' and some shit about 'not selling myself short'.

What he didn't get was that I _was_ doing what I wanted. For the first time in my life, I was taking things into my own hands and living the life _I_ wanted to live. I had a purpose now, a goal greater than getting an A on my History of Magic paper. I was a part of something bigger. The Order made me feel needed and important far more than Charms ever could.

Fred seemed to understand after I explained to him. And although he was still a little worried that I was giving up because I was afraid, or because of the war, or because of _him_, he never brought it up again. Besides little hidden looks or that glint he got in his eye sometimes, you would have never known. He seemed to understand that right now I needed someone to support me.

So it was all and our Orderly duty that brought us to King's Cross Station on the first of September, sixth year Golden Trio and fifth year Ginny in tow. As part of the Order brigade, the twins and I were 'protecting' them on their way to the train. Verity, as a non-official member and more of an Order aid, was not there and was instead manning the shop.

Fleur had been at the Burrow when we picked them up, unfortunately. Tonks wasn't with us, doubly unfortunately. Of course Phlegm had spent extra attention to the twins, fawning over them and brushing them with her hand just enough to make me jealous and the twins uncomfortable. Uncomfortably aroused or uncomfortably bad-touched I couldn't decipher, but either way it made me want to rip her shiny white eyeballs out of her head and grind them into pig shite.

I balled my hands in fists when she kissed Fred on the cheek, her lips lingering longer than necessary. I had to repeat 'be the better woman' on a soundtrack in my head to keep from tearing out her shiny blonde hair. Fred just flicked my nose and told me I was cute when I was jealous. Stupid bastard.

Molly had looked on fondly and hugged me a little longer than usual. Obviously she approved. That was enough to rid me of my bad mood and cheerfully see the little group off. The whole program had become much more strict and sterilized because of the ever-present danger, and it was putting a damper on everyone's moods, so I tried to at least be as upbeat as I could for them.

Ginny hugged me and then petulantly folded her arms across her developing chest. She was upset that I wasn't going back to Hogwarts. "What will I do without you?" she had cried when I told her. "Who will listen to all my drama and kick boys' arses for me?" Now, she just kissed me on the cheek and made me promise to write her at least once a week. I told her she would be fine and made _her_ promise to tell me the name and address of any bloke who pissed her off.

I told Harry, Ron, and Hermione to try and be careful this year. I wished them luck, because I knew they would need it, and made them promise to owl me if they needed anything. I hugged each of them and told them how proud I was of them. "If any of you get your stupid arse's killed, I'm going to bloody murder you! And yes, I realize that, thank you Ron. I just… take care of yourselves, yeah? I need you three in one piece so you can teach my bloody kids to stand up for themselves."

Then they were gone. I found myself getting a little teary-eyed and crossed my arms again, cursing my female hormones.

* * *

About two weeks into September, on a nippy and windy Wednesday night, Tonks, Bill, and I were patrolling for the Order on the outskirts of Diagon Alley. I bundled my jacket closer to me, lifting my wand a little higher, as Tonks droned on about how lovely Lupin was. At least he seemed to be lifting her spirits lately. I much preferred dopey-eyed Nymphadora to depressed-eyed Tonks.

Said love-struck eyes bemoaned to me how utterly perfect her 'we're-not-labeling-it-but-we-really-are-dating' boyfriend was. "He took me to a _picnic_. A picnic! In a park! And then, the next morning when I left his house, I found a _note_ in my pocket. Of course. He said, 'Had a wonderful time. Lovely to see you out of work. You are truly gorgeous.' I mean, how can I compete with _that_?"

I didn't even notice that I had involuntarily smiled at her ridiculousness. I was about to respond when Bill launched into a long tirade about Fleur's eyebrows. I rolled my eyes at the two of them and did a quick sweep of the area to avoid their near-sickening theatrics. Tonks and Lupin I could handle. Phlegm and Bill I could not. If you asked me, he deserved so much better.

When I got back, Bill was in the middle of detailing every meal Fleur had ever made him. My sister looked like she had starting zoning out to Lupin-land, and he latched onto my arrival with zeal. "Blayne! Do you think you could help my darling angel pick out napkins for the wedding? She's getting so upset about it. It would be wicked if you could help her out and take some of her stress away. She's starting to talk about it when I'm licking-"

"_Woah_! Thank you very much Bill, but I'd rather not have to bleach my brain this evening. I'll see if I have any free time. You know, with the shop and-"

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

I sucked in my breath and lifted my wand, adjusting my stance to prepare for the threat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tonks drop down to her fighting stance and Bill clutch his wand tighter. I scanned the darkness anxiously for any movement. A beat later, two billowing figures appeared out of the inky night with sneers on their faces. They were tall, taller than me but at least a head, and their ornate silver masks hid their identity. Death Eaters. Great.

It became apparent that these Death Eaters were both men, because they didn't waste any time with idle chitchat or attempts at snide threats. I narrowly avoided a cruciatus curse and parried with my own disarming spell, hitting too high. I hissed as a cutting curse scratched deep into my eyebrow and heard Bill groan beside me. I adjusted my feet and shouted out a blasting curse.

The battle was short and the two crawled away nursing broken bones. I groaned, irritated, and slowly rose from the ground, dusting off my butt as I went. We quickly did an injury inventory- Tonks had a broken nose and a burn on her left leg (she complained more about the singe on her trousers than anything), Bill's cheek had a bloody gash on it, and my eyebrow and arm were cut up pretty bad. I could practically feel the bruise blossoming on my tailbone.

We patrolled more vigorously for the rest of our patrol, which thankfully was only about another hour. Bodies aching and exhausted, we reported back to Dumbledore via the fireplace at Bill's flat, and then went our separate ways with promises to meet up for tea time in the afternoon.

When I finally stumbled through the bedroom door, I found Fred laying in bed reading some giant mystery thriller novel. And he was wearing reading glasses. I flopped onto the bed, groaning. It was nearly three in the morning, and I was way too tired to get aroused by that. When I looked up, Fred was looking at me over the tops of his glasses. I groaned again and sat up to cuddle into his side.

He put his book away and curled an arm around me, surrounding me in comforting heat. "Hey baby. You okay? What happened?" He kissed the top of my head and I mumbled something about Death Eaters and bloody gits and bone-crushing exhaustion. I felt, more than heard, his chuckle; it reverberated through my skull and made my back bounce against his chest. He gently pushed me away and leaned to his nightstand to pull out a healing ointment that we were trying out for the shop.

Gently, his fingers feeling like heaven, he rubbed the cooling cream into my cuts. The second of pain was definitely worth it when the blissful freshness kicked in. When he finished with my arm, he gently brushed his index finger over my split eyebrow and softly kissed it. I smiled drowsily.

He undressed me slowly, and I would have said something grouchy about being treated like a china doll but I was so tired that I didn't have enough energy to complain. When he found the developing, ugly blue bruise on my lower back, he gritted his teeth. I smiled around the sound. Protectiveness was coming off of him in waves. He rubbed the cream into my skin and I moaned around the sensation. The sensitivity sent shock waves up through my body and made me shiver.

Fred shucked his clothes and slid into bed beside me, pulling the covers up over us. Slowly, he touched his lips to mine, a kiss that was little more than sharing each other's breath. His nose brushed against my cheek, his tongue licked at the roof of my mouth, and his hands slid sensuously up and down my sides.

He shook me apart with his fingers and rebuilt me with his kisses, his touch a tender burning against my skin. He was a warm and comforting weight atop me, so sweet it was almost dream-like.

Afterwards, I fell asleep in his arms and he kissed the top of my head. He murmured random tidbits about his day and complained about Fleur. I slid into unconsciousness with a bruised body but a healed soul.

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_You put on your armour  
You put up defenses  
What are you on to?  
Cause I'm here to protect you  
So take it easy  
I make it so easy  
You can lay your head down  
And we'll leave it 'til tomorrow_

_-_**Armour Love by La Roux**

Follow me on Tumblr, I'm shes-a-beautifuldisaster over there! I think I'm going to start putting up some spoilers from now on!


	2. I Can Dream Realistically

Hey guys, sorry this update took so long. I had a lot of trouble with it for some reason, which is also why it's a little short.

Thanks for bearing with me and thanks to all who joined us/reviewed! Special thanks to Riversong105 who pm'd me!

Enjoy some sexy lovin' and on with the story! (I also love the song that goes along, I'm kind of addicted; hope you enjoy it too!)

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**Fine By Me** by Andy Grammer

You're not the type/Type of girl to remain/With the guy, with the guy too shy/Too afraid to say he'll give his heart to you forever/I'm not the boy who will fall to his knees/With his hands clasped tight/Begging, begging you please/To stay with him for worse or for better

But I'm staring at you now/There's no one else around/I'm thinking you're the girl for me

I'm just saying it's fine by me/If you never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me

In the past I would try/Try hard to commit to a girl/Wouldn't get too far/It always somehow seemed to fall apart

But with you, you, you/I can see what I need/I can dream realistically/I knew that this was different from the start

And it seems that every time/We're eye to eye/I can find another piece of you/That I don't wanna lose

And I'm staring at you now/There's no one else around/I'm thinking you're the girl I need

I'm just saying it's fine by me/If you never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me/I'm just saying it's fine by me/If you never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me

And it's never easy/Darling, believe me/I'm as skeptical as you/When I think of life without "us"/It seems like "What we're supposed to do? "/But I don't wanna come on too strong

I'm just saying it's fine by me/If you never leave/We can live like this forever/It's fine by me/It's fine by me/If you never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me/I'm just saying it's fine by me/If we never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me

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It's not like the twins suddenly grew up overnight. Yes, they had a shop and a flat and girlfriends, but they still acted like five year olds a lot of the time. More often than not, it was actually their _job_ to be immature. I spent multiple hours washing blue hair dye off of my body when they were 'experimenting' with body paint. I'd been on the receiving end of their new 'patented daydream charms' on more than one occasion, and yes, I had snapped out of it only to find that I was in an Order meeting with a wet spot between my thighs. Verity had _accidentally_ used a nose-biting teacup, shrieked, and broken three plates. It got so bad that one time, Verity and I taken a much-needed break from our nosy boys and had locked them out of George's bedroom so that we could gossip and complain. We found an extendable ear under the doorway.

The shop was a magnificent success. Even Molly was impressed. But that didn't mean that Fred and George were going to simply bask in their glory and give up their aspirations. At least twice a week the two would shove themselves in the basement of the shop and experiment with new joke ideas. Verity and I had started to prebrew healing potions.

So it didn't really surprise me when they sat us both down one day and displayed their burgeoning wizard defense line. They had been working on improving an anti-burglar buzzer, which I already knew because they had attached one to my purse and George snuck up behind me on the street and tried to steal my bag. But they had more, and the stuff they showed us had me staring at the two in awe. There were decoy detonators that looked like an animated horn and that scurried away to make loud and annoying noises in order to create a diversion. They put a normal-looking black hat on Fred's ginger hair, and his head disappeared. They pulled out paperwork for something called _instant darkness powder_ that would shroud a person in darkness just long enough for them to escape. Of course, the powder would have to be imported from _Peru_, for Merlin's sake.

"Blimey, boys, this is… this is bloody brilliant!" I muttered as I turned the hat over in my hands. Verity went with her own version of congratulations and threw herself at George with a smile. I kissed Fred happily, and we all decided that it was time to put them on the shelves.

A few weeks later, I joined them under the stairs to share an idea that had come to me while I was selling a dozen headless hats to one customer. We began work on hats to shield the wearer from jinxes soon after.

It didn't take long for the Ministry to order our defense products to protect their workers. With the new Ministry contracts, the shop started to rake in a ridiculous amount of cash. Our accountant told us that it would be wise to save most of it, though, as the war would bring unpredictable changes and costs.

Even so, I was starting to feel uncomfortably like a free loader. I didn't pay rent, I didn't pay for groceries, I didn't contribute anything to the flat. I was living off of the generosity of my mates and my boyfriend, and other than helping out at the shop some days, I was starting to feel a little bored, too.

I needed a job. But I hadn't gone back to Hogwarts, so I didn't have my N.E.W.T. credentials and I guessed that I never would. I didn't want to work for the Ministry anymore, not after what they had done to Harry and how they had been so bastardly ignorant of Voldemort's resurrection. Once upon a time, I had wanted to work developing charms, but I knew that now, I would hate it there. My options were limited, sure— especially because everyone was scared shitless.

I had an epiphany on a dreary Sunday afternoon, one of those typical English days where the sky was bleak and the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows tried to lull you to sleep. I was spending my day in the shop, meandering through the small crowds and restocking the shelves. It was a quiet day. The children were back in school, so only a few parents with young children were running around. It was one of those toddlers that changed my five-year plan completely.

He was teetering around in those little baby trainers, squealing and touching the sparkly adverts on the wall while his mother perused our new line of self-defense items. She seemed stressed and nervous as she shifted her weight back and forth. She bit her lip in indecision, picked up several different decoy detonators.

"May I help you?" I asked politely, coming up beside the two. She looked at me with wide eyes. She was pretty and young, probably only a few years older than I was, and obviously spooked about the war. Her baby giggled at a whirling toy to the left and I had no control over the smile that grew on my face. He was just the cutest thing in the world.

But he started to whinge and fuss just a few moments later. His chubby little hands pulled at her skirt insistently, his whimpers getting louder as he tried to pull her attention away from where she was asking me about the benefits of instant darkness powder. Getting an idea, I called George over to where he was flirting with Verity and had him talk to the mother. Then I pulled the toddler away, bringing him over to the toys more appropriate for his age.

"Aren't you just the cutest, huh baby?" I babbled my way through it, showing the infant our trick wands and miniature brooms. He squealed at the rubber chicken that grew out of the wand and clumsily clapped his hands as I showed him, from a safe distance of course, our Wildfire Whiz-Bangs.

I ended up giving him a free wand and an edible dark mark and his mum left with an armful of shielding hats and decoy detonators. That night, after extensive thought, I mentioned my day's excitement to Fred while we laid in bed.

"I had the most amazing afternoon."

Fred's soothing finger swirls stopped for a half-second before starting again, his finger ghosting over my bare arm and down to my finger. "Oh?" he mumbled into my hair.

I smiled, remembering the baby that had made my day. I told Fred about him, about how happy he had made me, about his miniature jumper and his button nose. And of course, Fred thought I was talking about something completely different.

The gentle touch was gone, replaced by the brisk fall breeze. Fred sat up beside me, his back rim-rod straight. The sudden tension between us had me mimicking his movements in alarm. Fred's eyebrows met his hairline, his mouth was pinched in confusion, and his hands were speaking for him in flustered gestures. "You want a baby? _Now_?" he cried.

I nearly fell off the bed. How on earth had he gotten that from my adorable baby talk? Okay, so maybe I could see it when it was put like that, but really. What was he thinking? I wasn't that selfish. Raising a child in a warzone had to be the worst idea ever. I told him as much with my eyes as I stood up and started picking up the laundry, a nervous habit. "What? _No_! Of course not. I think I want to be a _childminder_, not a… a mum!"

I could practically feel Fred's sigh of relief. That's probably what set me off, probably the reason Fred ended up sleeping on the couch that night.

In hindsight, Fred was being realistic and honest. It would be a terrible idea to have a baby at seventeen, unmarried, with our relationship being what it was—"slow", not effortless nor perfect. Even if we were on steady ground, even if he hadn't cheated and I hadn't been a basket case, raising a child with Death Eaters on every street corner would be ridiculous.

But it still hurt when he stared at me like I was crazy. He thought I wanted a baby, which okay, so it was stupid, but I wanted to have kids _someday_. Was it that horrifying for him to imagine having a baby with me?

It was one of the first big fights we had had since we got together again. We shouted, I pushed, he nearly punched a wall when I refused to listen. He didn't leave the house, thank god, but he did take a blanket and a pillow and stomp to the couch. In the morning, he woke me up with breakfast in bed to apologize.

"I-" kiss, "love-" kiss, "you." He lowered his body against mine, coming back from putting my breakfast away. His hands were everywhere, running over my chest and down my sides, over my arse, pulling the small of my back flush with his body. His fingers were hot and demanding, the sleepy edge of morning sex overpowered by the needy nature of makeup sex. Insistent and biting, his teeth nipped at my lips and his tongue licking the sting away. I made a noise in the back of my throat as my hand came up to the back of his neck, pulling him down and into the kiss.

I had slept in just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties, and he easily shucked those and his own sleep trousers so that he could press himself against me. This was one of my favourite parts of sex—the high of his naked body against mine, the feel of velvety skin sliding together and over, the press of his hard planes into my soft curves. Everything was hot skin and soft, dragging fingers, his grip tight in my hair to bare my neck to his wandering tongue, my legs taut around his waist so that I could grind my clit into his hipbone. He huffed out a noisy breath, his nose dragging against my breast as he pushed back against me, our bodies creating an easy dance. I pulled his mouth back to mine, whining as our teeth clanked. The kiss was wet and messy, all tongue and lips, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Another needy whimper escaped me. I felt the curve of his smile against the underside of my breast quickly phase into an openmouthed grunt as I gripped his cock hard in my hand, lining him up and slotting us together. With half a breath, his mouth was suddenly on mine. The ensuing kiss was little more than our lips pressed against each other as we groaned into each other's mouths when he slipped in with one hard push.

"Fuuck," I groaned, letting my head fall back into the pillows with a thump. Fred huffed in agreement, hands gripping my thighs and pulling out only to push me back onto him. He set a deep, steady pace, his thumbs digging into the skin above my hipbones. "Shit, Fred, right there. Ugnnn," I whined, my back sliding along the sheets. I bit into the skin of his left pectoral, satisfied with the pink, raw mark that winked back at me. Fred hissed from above me, tilting my hips so that my ass was nearly sitting on his knees. Our movements rocked the bed with such force that the steady _thump thump_ of the headboard hitting the wall became an easy beat to follow.

His nose nuzzled my neck and I just wanted to lay there forever, Fred surrounding me completely with his scent and his body. It was easy like this, perfect and steady. I wouldn't need anything else if I could just have this, ceaselessly. I dragged my hand down his back, grunting when he moved his hips a little and caused his hand to slip and his thumb to catch against my clit. "Shit," he chanted over and over, pressing the words into my shoulder. I gripped his ass hard in both hands, pulling him to me harder, tighter, faster, and his words were no longer coherent but instead a string of messy grunts and curses.

Fred moved abruptly, gripping the backs of my knees and pulling my legs from around his waist so that he could fold them up and press my thighs into my stomach. The change in angle had him farer above me, so we couldn't kiss, and forced my knees into my breasts, but it also shifted his cock so that he hit me just right, battering into that perfect spot on every pass. I pressed my hands in his shoulders to have something to hold onto, digging my nails in hard enough to leave marks. I secretly liked that I could mark him, make him mine, remind everyone who he belonged to. It gave some animalistic and primal part of me prideful peace. Fred seemed to like it too, arching into my grip as his hips stuttered.

It only took a few more thrusts and then I was flying apart underneath him, pieces of me flying out windows and doors and God-knows where else. Fred kept stroking me through it, pushing and pulling to find his own release while prolonging mine. I pulled my legs farther apart and clutched my knees to my chest with one hand while holding onto his waist with the other. "Come on Fred, come on baby. Come for me. P-please. I want you to. I—_shit_—I need it," I muttered, arching my back as he sent a stinging aftershock through me.

He groaned out a long "_fuuuck_" as he came, slumping over me and pushing me into the mattress. I let my legs fall down, sliding my ankle around the back of his foot, and he hummed contently. We stayed there, still locked together, for another ten or fifteen minutes until we regrettably had to get up to open the shop.

* * *

It didn't take long for me to find an open daycare post. The service was in a quaint part of Muggle London, though it was a magical nursery. The idea was to be as inconspicuous and as careful as possible. Because Little Charmers was specifically for children of Ministry workers, it was especially important to make sure they were safe from harm. Or at least that was the idea. The nursery could only do so much, and who knew if the children were safe at home with Ministry personnel who were becoming increasingly shady.

I immediately loved it. The babies were adorable, and though I came home at night exhausted and covered in spit up, I couldn't have been happier. The parents continued to drop their kids off with haggard faces and increasingly paranoid eyes, but the kids showed no signs of fright. They giggled, turned each other into animals, and on occasion blew things up. Sometimes, a child would stop showing up for daycare, and we didn't ask any questions. People were slowly starting to go into hiding and I secretly was glad they were putting their child's safety first.

I finally became an asset to the Order. I was around Ministry workers in a more informal situation, they trusted me, and more often than not they were too tired to keep up their defenses while they picked up their children. It became increasingly easier to wean information from the parents and from the toddlers who, as innocent information sponges, heard and saw everything and were not shy about babbling about it.

It felt good to be useful. I had information to give at meetings and I could finally be an active part of the Order. The adults listened to me, Dumbledore asked my opinion, and they all finally stopped treating me like I was a child who wanted to be included.

Somewhere along the way, I had grown up, and I still wasn't sure when that was or why that was. Six months ago I was still a child, going to school and living with my parents. Today, I was an adult—I had a job, a flat, a second family of hodgepodge individuals who I loved to death. It made me wonder, albeit a little fearfully, about what the next six months would bring.


End file.
